Mission Miserably Impossible
by Snow Sparkle
Summary: Mikan is Natsume's pretend girlfriend. Although it's not the sweet-nothings that felt real. It's the couple therapies, headaches and hints of "deliberate" jealousy that defines what they really are.
1. Of Phone Calls and Girlfriends

**Opening Note(s):** Sigh! Another chaptered fic. No worries, I won't upload another one save for oneshots. I did this to test my hypothesis on how to get my name showed up on the search engine because I want to see my name on it! And so when others try to find me they won't have troubles. I suppose I should get at least two stories up but I'm not sure that's why I'm testing it.

**IMPORTANT NOTICE:** I'm a bit lenient about plagiarism. I've made certain standards. Plot-copying is okay. For me, there is no such thing as completely-original, only **first**-to-be-_original_. It's a matter of time-line. Meaning, if Shakespeare wasn't able to write Romeo and Juliet, given time, some would have created it in his place. Still. There's a limit in 'copying'. Copying EVERY single line _is_ what I consider plagiarism.

**Disclaimer:** Did you guys got hit your head that caused your amnesia or something? Well to jog your memory, the name of the one who created Gakuen Alice is Higuchi Tachibana. _Not_ Andrea Chua. Who's Andrea Chua? Well don't look at me, I only made that name up. For the record, my name's... (gets smacked by impatient readers) Fine, fine, impatient ones! On with the story!

—

Mission _Miserably_ Impossible  
Written by: Snow Sparkle  
Chapter I – Of Phone Calls and Girlfriends

—

—

He was scowling again.

He was like that every time he walked side-by-side his father, Joujirou Hyuuga. It was like he was ashamed of being with him that he was sure not to walk too close so their shoulders would make contact. The thought goaded Joujirou and it made his insides churn uncomfortably, struggling not to admonish his son like he was only in his pre-school. Outwardly though, he looked perfectly unruffled. Signs of distress weren't in Hyuuga's reputation. They were always known for being in-control and cool and confident if not known for their empire of commerce.

And so they kept walking in silence as they made their way through the car park when the son stopped abruptly whilst Joujirou dutifully craned his head back at his son who was creasing his forehead in masked confusion.

The son bluntly narrowed his eyes at the father, yet tentatively testing the waters. "Where are we?" His tone was stiff and curt, almost untrusting like his father had done something wrong. It was anything but. In fact, he, the son, was the one who _said_ something wrong and it effectively and immediately destroyed Joujirou's veneer.

He took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, eyes closed and teeth clenching. When it opened, it was a perfect image of a murderer out and thirst to kill. "Where are we?" he echoed, his voice trembling in restrained anger. "Where are we you ask! We're at OUR hotel that's where we are!" There was an overwhelming and tempting surge of impulse to lob his son and knock some sense into him but the security personnel were fast to act that they were able to restrain and calm him down a bit just in time.

"You, Natsume, are the most irresponsible person! How dare you not know what business we're most famous at when you're the one who gets the most beneficiary out of it!"

Natsume, the now named son shrugged lightly and easily brushing off his father's outburst. He was used to this type of conversation anyway. It was like a routine. "It's not like I'd inherit it someday that I have to care." He stared point-blank then took a sidelong glance on his watch to beckon his father his time was being wasted just to spite him more. But not before he would point out his least favorite fact— it was like a hard slap across his face every time he remember it. Nevertheless he liked expressing his disappointments. After all, what was the use of moping if nobody knew what was the reason behind it?

"Isn't it that your eldest son, Touya, would take over this?" he spat with venom dripping from his tone.

Something clicked and Joujirou shoved the sentinels to a side, straightening his suit. If others, this simple move from him would make anyone cower in fear. Hyuugas have a certain distinctive aura that anyone would instantly have deep respect and fear to them. But he was faced with another Hyuuga, a Hyuuga that was of complete resemblance to him. "Is this what's all about? You're envious of _my_ attention to Touya?"

Natsume let out a derisive snort. The old man thought that the world revolved around him. "Don't you get enough flattery from the press?" He shifted his gear. "So what are we doing here? I'm guessing to kiss Touya's arse? Gonna officially hand this over to him while I, the irresponsible son will gawk enviously?" he mock-pouted his voice.

Joujirou couldn't keep himself steady. He couldn't believe it, Natsume _was_ envious of Touya and he wasn't aware of it!

Touya had always pleased and flattered him, yes. Though his brains weren't so great, they weren't that bad either. In fact, his I.Q. was about above average. Touya was hard-working and was not hiding the reality that he wanted Joujirou's approval. He worked so hard that he shunned any thoughts of having romantic relationships. He forgot all about having fun and focused in priding Joujirou.

Natsume on the other hand, never exerted an effort to pride him although his brains and talent far succeeded anyone— everyone. He never did showcase a tiny speck of interest on their businesses and merely spent all the money they were making on useless gears. Still, he was his favorite. Because Natsume was like him. The true imagery of a Hyuuga he wanted to show off the press.

But then, after _personally_ driving him to Halcyon Heights Hotel to hand him the title of the business in hopes of rousing his interest, he said those!

"No." the answer was smooth and controlled yet undeniably mocking, a plan coming up. Now that he knew Natsume was unconsciously unaware of his urge to surpass Touya, he could use it. "I was about to give this to you but—" He deliberately paused to enjoy his son's stunned expression. His plan was definitely working. Natsume might be brainy but he was way too premature to meet him head-on. His lips quirked into a devious grin. "—But since you made perfectly clear you're not interested, I guess I have to hand it over to Touya as _you_'ve so happily suggested."

Natsume's red irises narrowed more into slits. "You really don't intend to give it to me, do you?"

"Do I not?" Joujirou mocked mused in a non-committal manner and with a click of his fingers, a man in dark suit appeared to hand over an envelope full of documents inside a suitcase and showed triumphantly the name indicated to whom those documents belong to: Natsume Hyuuga. He again took pride over his son's glare at the documents. "Now how's that? How does it feel of what was supposed to be yours would be Touya's?" And as if it wasn't enough he added, "Touya'll have a field day about this."

Natsume's glare was still on, the name indicated on the documents was slowly churning into Touya to his deceptive mind's eye. "Isn't that nice?" He managed to draw out a vindictive smile that made the spectators took a step back. Joujirou inwardly prided as if to say _That's my boy_. "Congratulations. It's in good hands." And as he finished saying this, Natsume marched on his foot out of the lot, with no place in mind but a thought in mind.

_I'll get that Touya some day!_

—

—

_my dearest mikan,_

_u knoe me, but u dont knoe it's me. i've loved u ever since i've 1st laid muh eyes on u. i luv u not only bcoz of ur undying beauty but also bcoz ur kind, sweet, smart, funny, hard-working, hot, bubbly, kissable, huggable, adorable, lovable nd friendly. i'm sorry i cant xpose muhself 4 noe but mayb sumday i will. wen dat tym cums, we'll b happy..._

_2gether 4evah..._

_Your secret admirer,  
LhOvEr-BoYzZz69_

"I've decided. You're a loser."

Mikan Sakura had hung her head low, flushing furiously at her best friend's admonishing and mocking gawp. This has got to be the most embarrassing day of her life. She was so in dire straits and now she was exposed, she would possibly never hear the end of this.

"I-I was doing it only for entertainment!" she lousily forged an explanation, avoiding Hotaru's eye-contact and tried to ease the building tension of her body by fiddling over her sundress.

"And writing letters to yourself is an entertainment?" Hotaru shot back making Mikan frantically waved her hand to beckon Hotaru to lower down her voice. Getting caught by her best friend dropping off a mail to herself on a busy street was mortifying enough and she didn't want more people to hear her crime. Without thinking, she grabbed Hotaru's hand and dragged her to a more private place. It happened to be a nearby telephone booth.

"Fine!" she blurted uneasily, pacing back and forth and biting her fingernails. "I did it because I'm lonely! No one ever writes me love letters and you're getting married and now I'm so depressed so there!" Mikan practically screamed the last two words. She had herself at the scanty corner with her hard covering her face to prevent Hotaru from reading her expression.

Um. So how come her writing love letters to herself lead to the dramatic rap session of Hotaru being married? It was like she was plunking down all her odd behavior to her best friend— That it was Hotaru's fault not hers.

"I thought we've talked about this." Hotaru stated dryly. Not at all affected all of Mikan's fake dramas. She folded her arms and leaned against the phone booth's frame. "You can't expect me to be by your side forever."

"Y-No! Of course not!" Mikan replied defensively, her neck craned heavenwards to stare back momentarily at Hotaru then back at her hands. "It's just that you're my best friend! I had plans for us! I dreamt a double wedding! Then we'd give birth at the same time and engage our kids then go to— go to— I'm so sorry for being selfish... I wanted you to be happy... no, I _want_ you to be happy... and Ruka-pyon's a good man— I had a crush on him before— but never mind, I don't wanna be alone!" she blabbed hysterically.

"And what, pray tell, is exactly the connection to the current situation?" Hotaru prodded, her shoe was beginning to tap impatiently against the floor.

"Hotaru! I'm penniless!"

If it was possible, Hotaru deadpanned more. The girl was changing the topic. And it was so blatantly obvious it pissed her off. Did Mikan actually think that with a brain as great such as hers, she would _not_ notice it?

Hotaru was either being underestimated or Mikan was just being an oaf.

_Probably the latter._

Hotaru sighed stressfully, hauling Mikan aloft and gave her a let's-not-fuck-around glare. "It's about the good-for-nothing Reo, isn't it?"

Mikan's silence said it all and Hotaru didn't resist an eye-roll.

"You write letters to yourself to make Reo jealous." Hotaru concluded, Mikan conceded. "He's such a prick. I really don't get why you date that guy— Or was it _dated_?"

"Dated..." Mikan affirmed in a reluctantly helpful tone, her voice somber and about to cry.

"Good." Hotaru approved callously. She might be a little too harsh on her but it was for the better. "Seriously don't get worked up over a guy whom you dated for mere three weeks. He's not worth it. He only made you feel like you were lucky to have him."

"I _was_ lucky to have him!" Mikan tried to gripe but Hotaru's penetrating stare made her think twice. But then remembering what Reo did to her, a lot of inspiration came. "He was the first guy to pay attention to me! And he was good-looking too! A lot of girls like him! And yet even of those various beautiful girls that he could have chosen, he chose _me_! The plain me!"

Hotaru wanted to smack someone's head right now and it wasn't Mikan. They didn't argue over things then this Reo came. The brainwasher was a jerk. "That's exactly my point. Mikan, why do you degrade yourself? A girl needs a man who can lift her up, not make her feel so down."

"He wasn't making me feel down... I was the only one—"

She hauled up her hand to stop her mouth's motion. Hotaru planed her ruffled clothes, bending her attention to something else. It was hard to talk Mikan out of matters such as this. "Go ahead. Drool over Reo but don't say I didn't warn you."

Mikan anxiously grabbed Hotaru's sleeve securely to prevent her from leaving. "I'm sorry..." she spoke but refusing to meet Hotaru's eyes. Then deciding it was better if she was left.

She wasn't sad over Reo.

But she was sad having known someone _like_ Reo would be impossible to reach.

—

—

"It's not you, it's me."

How many times have Mikan heard that done to death break-up line?

Lots of times in countless movies, TV shows and old radio dramas. If Mikan had heard it from a third-person point of view, she would have probably rolled her eyes. Unfortunately, Mikan wasn't the third person. That hackneyed line was _for_ her.

Mikan desperately clutched her cell phone with both her hands like she was actually holding Reo's new lover's neck. Needless to say, she looked like a lovesick fool and already crying in both anger and misery— mindless and unaware of the some sniggering and some sympathetic glances people from the espresso bar she sat gave.

"Is it because I order way too much when we eat out?" Mikan tried to get the conversation running, if she hadn't said it Reo would have thought she choked in her spit whilst crying and died.

If anything, Reo tried to suppress an exasperated sigh. He so wanna hung the phone right now. This was his price of dating an NBSB— No Boyfriend Since Birth. He thought it was fun, trying to take on virgins but Mikan was too innocent and too naïve for her own good that Reo couldn't make a subtle move on her. She couldn't get hints. So he learnt his lesson that experienced girls were more fun. Yes, Mikan was such a refreshing and fun companion but like any other guys, they want _more_ than that.

What Mikan couldn't give was what his potential girlfriends could give. Thus two-timing her by dating the French model who had shown some keen interests on him. Screw it if the only French phrase he knew and understand was _Je T'aime_— Levine was beautiful anyway and would make a good display to his friends. When Mikan caught them, she made him choose.

The answer was as obvious as the pimple nose on the face.

"Mikan," Reo drawled slowly, as if it would aid Mikan's comprehension skills. "Mikan, _baby_, please don't cry, you know it makes me sad." he forged a pouty voice, trying to sound hurt.

"Then why!" she bashed the coffee table, making the fine chinas on top make a clattering sound. "Is it because Levine speaks French?! I already know what _Je T'aime_ means— the one you kept saying like it's the _only_ word you can understand—"

A seductive, purring, feminine voice on the other line interrupted her mouth-blab and Mikan knew instantly who it was.

"Stop calling Reo already." It was Levine and it hadn't for her situation, Mikan would have laughed at her strong French accent trying to do a Japanese. It sounded weird to her native ears.

Mikan filled her lungs with all her spite for Levine and was about to retort heatedly when a busy line hollered. Cheesed off, she tried calling again but it was already out of reach. She did this a couple of times until she got sick of it and lobbed her cell phone to the table, wolfing down the remaining whole of her blueberry cheesecake and simultaneously swigged her cappuccino, not even savoring the heavenly taste like she usually did.

"It's not you, it's me."

Mikan blinked, ears suddenly perked up at the same break-up line Reo had used to her and it had stirred her emotions more. It was coming from the table behind her. The voice was a strong, deep and throaty one— the kind that would send girls knees quaking and boys glaring enviously. Being the prying and curious girl that she was, she hazarded a look and saw a familiar looking woman. It didn't take long to realize that she was the underwear model of the brand she was currently using.

At first she thought she was the one being dumped but then she saw the guy on the phone, smiling playfully at the model like they were sharing some kind of a dark, seedy secret.

He was apparently an incredibly a handsome guy— making the squealing noises of the high school girls on the other table understandable yet at the same time irritating. His hair was jet black just like what most people have, yet the ruffled, smooth shape of it made the other hairs inferior. And his eyes, Mikan was so sure it wasn't for the thanks of contact lenses, were crimson.

Yet. Instead of admiring the guy just the rest of the female population of the café did, she felt sick to the stomach just looking at him. He reminded her of what exactly her imaginary Reo was doing when he broke up with her and the model pretty much reminded her of Levine.

_Were models likely to get caught into a third-party?_

Mikan restrained herself and her spite at her chair— convincing herself it has got nothing to do with her.

"Korina," he drawled slowly, whirling a sense of déjà vu to Mikan. "Korina, _baby_, please don't cry, you know it makes me sad."

That decided it. Ousting out her conscience away, Mikan marched furiously to their table, snatched the guy's cell phone from his lazy grasp (like he despised the conversation he had). She was ignorant to the gasps of the café and proceeded to talk to the already crying girl on the other line. "You don't know me and I don't know you but I understand you. You're just wasting your tears for this guy! He's—" The guy tried to snatch the phone back but she quickly evaded. And now she was blabbing her failed love life to the stranger... "He's toying with you like my ex-boyfriend has—" This time, the cell phone's owner had succeeded to get his phone back and tossed it to his model girlfriend.

Natsume sent her a suffocating death glare. "Just what do you think you're doing!" he challenged in a low growl, ceasing her arm vice-grip that made Mikan yelp. He was so not in the mood today. For starters, his father had just given his brother what was supposed to be his and now a stranger had intercepted his call.

She tried to struggle out but he was way too strong. "Helping unfortunate people like me!" she snapped. "But thanks to you, I've found out that all guys are losers! They use the same expression over and over thinking it works on all kinds of girls!" Then with the strongest kick she could muster, she aimed for his shin but she ended up tripping down at the process. Natsume merely made a grunting sound whilst Mikan tried to get her composure put back together.

"That's for all the women you've deceived!" she barked, blissfully unaware of how pathetic she sounded because she was the one who had the most damage. She turned to the model who was looking angrily at her but at the same time terrified. "And you, I pity you!"

When she said that, she felt like she was like wonderwoman who fought vigorously for women rights and felt amazingly in-control. She turned back again to Natsume who was dying to wish that she was a guy so he could hit her.

"So this is the way you handle your anger?" his tone was bored like the embarrassing scene never happened. "You're even more pathetic than I thought." His red irises scanned the room, making a mental note that they were attracting a lot of attention and that some were videoing the scene with their cell phones. Suddenly, a plan came up that would put him in a win-win situation. With a malignant smirk, he turned to his girlfriend. "Cherry, I'm done with you. Let's break up."

Cherry's eyes widened in shock. How come her _ex_-boyfriend who had dumped another girl recently for her, had dumped her in mere seconds after they were officially together?

"Why!" was her distressed cry. "Is there something about me that you don't like? What did I do to make you do this!"

He smiled at her patronizingly, regarding her in a callous manner that he truly was. "It's not you, it's me." Mikan rolled her eyes at the scene but then he suddenly yanked her, catching her off guard and nailed her around his arm. It was a kind of a brotherly clasp that guys often use to snag mischievously other guys but the people were all too stunned to notice. "And her."

The look of Mikan and Cherry's horrified look and the gasps of people made Natsume smirk in triumph. Inwardly he knew this would make Touya and his dad and the coffee-eyed girl churn their insides to smithereens.

_Ah_. Revenge would be sweet.

—

—

**Ending Note(s): **To give the plot's framework: This it's not a pretend-girlfriend thingy. More like a pretend-falling-apart-couple... then Mikan will do her so-called and _non-existing_ seducing talent to seduce Touya. Of course jealousy ensues! It's fun to have the plan backfiring back at them.


	2. Their Best Friend's Wedding

**Opening Note(s):** This was due last Friday but I had _teh_ internet problems until now. Another one, I'm not sure if I've said this but for the benefit of the doubt, the updates for this fic will be slow—_er_ than my other fic, Rules of Abduction. I want to concentrate more on RoA.

Je T'aime means something like "I love you." And like Reo, that's probably the only French thingy I know. Except of course if it's of Anglo-Saxons origin... (I can at least tell meaning by its roots) but I _think_ A-S's more on Latin... Urgh. Forget it. I neither speak French _nor_ Latin. Period.

—

Mission _Miserably_ Impossible  
Written by: Snow Sparkle  
Chapter II – Their Best Friend's Wedding

—

—

Natsume struggled defiantly.

His hands were cuffed and pinned to his back and a policeman was ushering him to his designated prison chamber. Even though everything was working according to his plans, he considered his treatment harsh like he was condemned suspect from a murder case.

"Do you have any idea who I am?!" he hissed at the policeman, craning his head back to shoot him a glare. Unfortunately, he didn't have the talent of rotating his head 180 degrees and only caught the flyaway hair under the police cap.

Mikan contorted a disgusted face on his apparent and blatant conceit. She was walking a few steps behind them and although not cuffed, a policewoman was ushering her as well to women's cell, opposite Natsume's future provisional _dwelling_.

The policeman on the other hand, gave Natsume a dry look. He was an old man nearing retirement and had encountered a lot of more mischievous and _real_ criminals. Petty scandals like these lovers' case were an insult in his work experience. He believed trifle matters could be resolved without making the issue big.

_But the manager of the espresso bar actually made the issue as big as a big sod that he was and reported these two quarrelling lovers._

_A shoddy and utterly cheap attempt to publicize his place,_ the policeman supposed darkly as he pulled a spiteful grin. "Of course I know you." There was a look of _There you see!_ on the eyes of Natsume and for a moment he looked smug and for a moment looked hopeful he'd treat him more... kindly. _But not get out soon._ He quickly added. He had some things to be accomplished first. "You're the one who scandaled the café with that lady." He gestured at Mikan but he kept his dry look on Natsume. "That's why you're here. At _p-r-i-s-o-n_."

The smug look immediately disappeared and Natsume felt vandalized. "I'm a Hyuuga. Natsume Hyuuga!"

The policeman frowned contemplatively as if trying to place his name. The Hyuuga had stricken as something familiar when he was recording the suspect's name but he merely shrugged it off. For the second time, after the suspect had emphasized his name, he ignored it. An ordinary citizen like himself was not someone who could keep track on the business world. "The name means nothing." he said simply, pushing him behind the bars. "Sorry kiddo, you could've bailed you and your girlfriend out but you refused to. I have no choice."

"I'm not his girlfriend!" Mikan protested, being easy to usher, was already behind the bars.

The policewoman sighed exasperatedly. Mikan had been yelling for quite a time now, it hurt her ears. "Of course honey." she said condescendingly, dismissing the subject as a petty lover's tiff.

Mikan watched the policewoman and blanched and whimpered as she secured and locked the bars. "You don't believe me do you?" She was all-alone in her cell and would almost do anything to forestall her loneliness. The police were still around but the other male prisoners on the other side were already giving her dirty looks and were rubbing their hands greedily and evilly. Obviously it was for a long time they've seen a woman.

"Whether or not, I believe you, it won't help you out, I think." the policewoman said, not out of apathy and frowned at Mikan contritely. She sighed then spoke in almost a whisper. "But I'll try to do what I can. I'll try to call the numbers on your contacts to help you out. For now, endure it." The policewoman with regrets loosened her grip on the bar, giving Mikan a lingering look of pity.

"Wait!" Mikan tried to reach the policewoman but her senior was already calling her. Instantly, the prisoners began sweet and/or dirty calling her but Mikan was already oblivious to it, as her vision started spinning, the smell and the creepy look of the place had sunk in.

She was beginning to think glumly of her perfect good citizen record being marred and her image if she would be free.

Also. They said food in jail was the worst and baths or showers were not famous... and the heat was unbearable... and the—

_Can I survive a lifetime here...?_ Was already her thought— Although the worst span of time she could spend in the jail was only for a week.

Yet no one could blame her overreaction.

This was indeed one of the worst days of _her_ life, if not the worst.

And when things became uncontrollable and uncontainable and overwhelming like this, her only solution was to cry. So she did and she did it whilst she was gripping onto the bars for support resembling a convict repenting for crimes. Maybe someone would take pity on her and help her out.

"Crying won't help you at a time like this." Natsume reproached on the opposite side, watching her dryly. Obviously not the someone Mikan was asking for. He was already making himself comfortable on the lone bed, confident he'd get out soon.

"And lying around there does help?" she bit back, but tried to stop crying anyway. "It's all your fault!" she screamed accusingly. Their _jailmates_ who were watching them with interest, sniggered and _Whoa-_ed mockingly.

"My fault?" Natsume began to get up from his comfort zone, eying her now directly. He was calm yet the look implied he was warning her not to provoke him. "Aren't you the one who made a scene in the first place and poked her nose intrusively to the matters of others?"

"T-That's—" she started lamely, stuttering. "That's because you are making fun out of the girls' feelings!"

"Still that doesn't give you the right to butt into other people's personal matters."

Their jailmates laughed, hooted and cheered for Natsume.

Mikan gave him a disbelieving stare, she was utterly whipped.

—

The policewoman came back. Approximately thirty-minutes after she'd left her. She had keys on her hand and Mikan felt herself crushed and slightly betrayed when the policewoman ambled to Natsume's quarter not hers.

It was then when she noticed someone was trudging behind the policewoman.

A man, presumably slightly older than Mikan dressed in a tight businessman's attire and glasses. She couldn't make out a distinct and clear image of the man because of the dim lights but the man had stricken her as somewhat familiar... and somewhat cute.

"You're lucky. Your brother here bailed you out." the policewoman said patronizingly, finding the right keys to Natsume's bars.

_Ah_. So that was why he'd seem familiar. He was her jailmate's brother. Meaning they look alike. Mikan so want to take back her additional compliment about the brother but she didn't want to be mean. Maybe his brother was Natsume's opposite...

_Hey..._ a thought suddenly stroke Mikan. _Maybe he could get me out..._

"What's with that smug look on your face?" someone snarled. It wouldn't take a genius to know it was Natsume. Apparently, someone wasn't happy he's been released earlier than what he'd thought. He'd planned at least three to five hours so he could traumatize Mikan more and persuade her to do what he'd wanted. And he had _not_ planned _his_ brother to do the bailing.

"The smug's there for two reasons only." The older brother hauled out two hands but it resembled not a 'peace sign' but rather a gun pointing up. "One, you look pathetic behind the bars and I'm obviously taking my pleasure seeing you like that. Two, father gave me _3H_— or was it you who gave it to me?"

_Forget it..._ Mikan sighed painfully. _They're both the same. No way I'm gonna ask help from these two siblings._

—

"Wait!" Mikan called out frenetically to Natsume's retreating figure. When faced in a bizarre circumstance, everyone forgot about pride.

Well fine, her cause was for _greater_ pride.

She knew damned well it that having spent a night in prison was _more_ embarrassing than asking someone else's help who she prolly knew well could help her and _would_ help her. She was trigger-happy on her money when she was depressed so she spent all of it on the expensive espresso... nothing left to bail her out...

Five minutes ago, Natsume had approached Mikan, immediately after his release and offered her, well, an _offer_ in exchange of her freedom.

It was too embarrassing of an offer that she had an instinct to demur and to shelve it instantly.

But now her instincts said to bite the offer.

Natsume turned around to look at her desperate figure and tried to hide his arrogant, knowing smirk behind his neutral expression.

"C-Come closer..." Mikan muttered, discomfited. Her face was beat red.

Natsume remained frozen to his place. He didn't even say a thing.

"I'm..." she faltered. _Bad start,_ she reprimanded. "I want to talk about your offer and it's embarrassing so come closer!"

Natsume finally talked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I've already laid out the deal. The only thing I need of you is your answer."

"W-Well... we could talk it out when—"

"Look." Natsume cut her off firmly. Feigning impatience. He could already squeeze her yes. He could feel it. _Maybe I could make a show of marching out again and pressure her harder..._ "I have no time of dealing an ambivalent _client_ like you. I still yet have to sign release documents."

"Well..." Mikan cast her eyes down, obviously stalling. When she heard Natsume's impatient clicking of tongue, she'd jerked. "Promise you'll get me out?"

Natsume need not to feign a look of annoyance. _This_ was taking so damned long. _And this girl's too irritating!_

"Sorry, I forgot, you already said that..." She bit her lip. "Okay, you have—" Mikan had to stop, distracted.

The policewoman came back, a smile now on her face and she was looking at her. The smile could only mean one thing...

"A friend of yours had bailed you out. But she couldn't come so she'd sent someone instead." the policewoman explained whilst she unlocked Mikan out. "Her proxy's already gone but she'd signed up the things she should sign."

"Oh thank you so much!" she gushed, relief flooding over her and her face literally brightened up when colors started to show back to her ashen face. She couldn't get out a decent bound of thanks, as she was overwhelmed.

"Don't sweat it. It's our job." She winked. "I figured you didn't want help from your boyfriend as you two are in a tiff."

Mikan didn't get the chance to deny as she suddenly flushed, remembering the deal she had _almost_ accepted. Natsume was still glaring at her, obviously irritated his plans were catapult to the dumpster.

Mikan silently give her thanks to the Lord for saving her from his wrath.

—

—

The theme color of the wedding was peach... a color that was obviously not decided by Hotaru but by her maid-of-honor, Mikan.

When the choir began to sing to welcome the _royal_ entourage, Mikan started to get teary-eyed. She wiped the tear that was threatening to ruin her make-up. It wasn't everyday she got dolled up so she had to make the most of it.

Her hair that was usually in pigtails was pulled into a used-to-be neat, scalp-pulling bun adorned by a simple butterfly hairpin. The hairpin was usually kept and not used for it held sentimental value. It was a gift Hotaru had given her when they were kids. But since today was a special occasion, Mikan wore it. In fact, it was Hotaru herself who pinned it to its place.

Mikan smiled contentedly. It was a long time since Hotaru had openly shown compassion. Then again, if it was to pick a time when to show it, it would be this day. _Her_ wedding day.

Hotaru's wedding day.

As Mikan trudged down the red carpet and saw all her enthusiastic suggestions of the wedding come to life, Mikan couldn't help but to be in trance that this was her wedding.

A double wedding with Hotaru.

She let her fantasies went riot, her pace beginning to slow.

Two weeks after she'd broken up with Reo, she had fantasized herself hooking up with Ruka's best man. She'd envisioned herself as a romance novel heroine, hurt and fresh of her past love and meeting up a new guy who would be _awesomely_ different from the other guys. After all, in novels, the maid of honor ended up with the best man, ain't it?

He would be a debonair. A guy who was also hurt by a girl and gave up already on love. Or he could be a man who never ever dated anyone, despite lots of girls fawning over him because he didn't believe in _gay-ish_ things like love.

_But of course I'm supposed to be a protagonist so he'll fall for me anyway and he'll believe in love for the first time... and probably, he'd never kissed anyone before... although I could be talking for myself._

She was nearing the altar and she could almost feel her hair standing out in anticipation.

On the right corner was Ruka, ostensibly edgy and kept adjusting his lapel. He went on all-white and seemed an angel with his bright blue eyes and blonde locks. He was refreshingly handsome that Mikan couldn't help but to be slightly envious.

Although, it was an arranged marriage that their family had designed for business merger, Mikan was sure Ruka loved Hotaru. And in a more discreet scale, Hotaru too loved Ruka.

Mikan actually wondered how she'd become friends with influential people when she was only a granddaughter of a retired chef.

Averting her eyes from Ruka, she expected to see the best man and prepared to flash him a nice smile...

Only to be locked, stocked and barreled from complete terror.

Ruka's best man frowned at Mikan, not liking her expression. The face seemed familiar, but only vaguely. _Maybe an old forgotten girlfriend?_

He frowned harder, almost looking like a glare, trying to place where had he seen her face.

She didn't look like an old girlfriend... it was like she knew him and obviously not pleased with his _very_ existence.

Then, recognition clicked and he'd began to smirk.

—

—

"Excuse me!" Mikan said, not out of courtesy. She was currently pushing her way up to the front where Hotaru was, standing on a low plinth.

It started as a not-so-subtle hint to all _single_ girls to gather at the front. Yet everyone already knew what was going to happen. As if it wasn't _duh_-ish, enough. Single girls, at the center, with Hotaru, the bride... and the bouquet— wouldn't that ring any bell at all?

Excitedly, the girls, including Mikan and some pretending not wanting to participate but came anyway, came into the center expectantly. Beaming.

Hotaru's throw on the bouquet was high and the girls, being in formal dresses and all, started a low, feminine jump and simply relied on gravity to bring the flowers to them. When the bouquet dropped to the space between them and Hotaru (apparently the throw was high but not far), the girls, discreetly did the game of pass and be-passed when suddenly as they neared the bouquet, turned into a full-blown, win or die race.

Mikan was one of those participants.

But she was the only one who got what she wanted.

Of course, she'd swanked off the bouquet and gloatingly ambled to her respected seat. Her plan on dating the best man was an _epic failure_ (so far she'd managed to avoid him) but she resolute immediately that _if_ (which she did) get the bouquet, it was a good sign enough that whoever got the garter, would be her future husband.

She squealed, sighing romantically, and looked eagerly on the men. Unlike the girls, the male singles were taking the garter-thing as a big fat joke. Mikan frowned, she had somewhat fantasized that after learning it was her that had caught the bouquet, the boys would be _dying_ to catch the garter and be for once, serious in the matters of love.

_Guess it doesn't work really well in real life..._

Yet that thought didn't deter her from expecting different. After all, they said that the only way to forget an old love was to get a new one.

_Urgh_. She was sounding more and more pitiful and lovesick.

Focusing back to the boys, it came to her realization that while she was musing, someone had already got the garter. Mikan searched intently for her dubbed future husband and noticed that he too was staring at her impishly.

With his red eyes.

Mikan almost whimpered.

Forget asking for signs. Her lovelife was a _total_ epic failure.

—

Mikan braced herself helplessly on a lone chair as Natsume ambled slowly to her. The crowd was cheering and screaming like crazy baboons but Mikan barely hear it as she was more focused on what would he do to her.

When Natsume lowered onto the marbled flooring, kneeling like someone to be knighted, Mikan visibly flinched and chuckled nervously. "Erm... hi?" she offered lamely. Why oh why did she always come up with the lamest of greetings?!

Natsume wasn't the type to waffle and prevaricate things so he ignored her. He didn't even give a prelude when his warm hand clasped around Mikan's frozen foot. She jerked in response.

The garter was clasping around her ankle and Natsume had placed her foot atop his lower bent knee. "I'm offering the same proposition back there in jail." he said bluntly, eyeing her and giving her a serious look.

"W-What p-p-proposition?" she stuttered her lie.

Natsume didn't say anything but gave her a harsh warning when he brushed his fingers tentatively against her skin as he inched the garter upward.

Mikan choked. It was a good retort. "O-Okay, fine, I remember! Just please no..." she pleaded, trying to forestall her judgment in vain by trying to hold Natsume's hand in place. It was okay if the place he'd settled was at the back of her lower leg, one of her sensitive areas, as long as it wouldn't go any _farther_.

He easily shoved her hands away. "Why not?" was his rhetorical question. Slowly just to spite her, he trudged the garter aloft and Mikan cringed at the unpleasant tickling sensation she'd felt.

"This is abuse, it could pass off as rape!" she hissed dramatically. _Okay fine, I should have known I'd end up like this when I caught the bouquet but I thought he'd be my husband so it was okay._ She blinked absentmindedly. _Hey, it rhymed..._

"You hear that?" Natsume broke her from her reverie and for once realized that everyone in the room was urging Natsume to go higher. There was a slight patronizing leer on his face. "They say higher."

Mikan shook her head, distressed. "N-No. Please..."

"Say yes. I'll stop."

Mikan was defiant. _No way_ she'd gonna accept it. She want to be out of his sight once this wedding was over and maybe visit some psychologist for possible brain damage due to trauma... but agreeing to his scheme would jeopardize it.

_I could endure it..._ she said to herself, sucking a deep breath. _He could go all the way up and still he wouldn't get to squeeze me my yes. Hah. I sounded so heroine-ish just now._

He again lifted up the garter and now, it was a little past her knees. "I can already see your panty, _Polka-dots_."

That alarmed her. She almost had forgotten she had her monthly period today. "What?!" she half-yelled and bent down to try to retrieve her battered dignity. _Bad move,_ she berated herself, giving herself a mental slap when she came nose to nose with Natsume. Reluctantly, she admitted that he was way more handsome than Reo and for a moment entertained the idea of— _Stop! Mikan stop!_ She snapped and with her flushed face, she straightened up and went back to hissing at him just to remind herself she was supposed to be defending her dignity. Not surrendering it. "How'd you know you sick pervert!" Nice. Very well played. Note the sarcasm.

"What?" Natsume looked slightly bemused, trying to remember what had caused her to call him a sick pervert. Then he sneered. "It was _really_ polka-dots? I was only bluffing." There was slight amusement but more of mocking in his tone.

She gaped at him and went blanch. Great, she just told him her underwear. "You tricked me!"

"And you fell for it." He snorted in disbelief, clearly hasn't gotten over that she was _actually_ wearing on old-fashioned and childish underwear pattern. But. He dispelled it, sombering suddenly. He was getting too distracted so for good measure, he inched it slightly, for a warning.

Mikan again whimpered, this time totally alarmed. Thanks to the panty comment, her resolute was destroyed. All she could only thing was to stop him _by all means_ in seeing her underwear. With the good position Natsume was in, it was highly likely.

So in her distressed condition, she had uttered the word that would spare her from ephemeral doom and welcome her to eternal torment.

"Yes."

—

—

**Ending Note(s):** Thank you for reaching the bottom of the page. And since you're already down here, why don't you give me _something_ I'd love to have? Somewhere down _there_. XD  
Just like what these lovely people did:

animearchitect, Love Storm, animeg, Nadeshiko-hime, Her star-lit starlite dreams, StarAngel02, My Hopeless Romantic, halftherainbow7, Orange Sorbet, iimAdOrKabLe, Kazumi17, rockerfaith, LadyLuna132 (_With all due aptness_), Cute Pukite, SpaiseFreaque, khatzie, JoiZ. D, storylover1234, stephmoomoo, BakaKoneko (_I edited your penname sorry because for some reasons I don't know, your name doesn't show up_), shuuxharuka


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